13
Buffy was eventually allowed the freedom of her wrists. And even better, she received the pillows she had asked for. It was a sad state of affairs when that was the highlight of her day. Being able to roll herself over onto her side and shoving a pillow between her knees had never felt so good. What she wouldn't give to have her full length body pillow that Spike had bought for her... But no... Yet one more thing these buttheads had stolen from her, and Buffy added this latest one to her mental laundry list of grievances.
Her list was getting quite long.
Those small concessions didn't come without a price, however. Spike detected the acrid scent of yet another round of airborne medication being sprayed into the cell, and Buffy's weakness and lethargy quickly became more pronounced. The only bright side - if drugging his girl actually had a bright side – was that the vampire was able to determine the effects of the gas. It was now readily apparent that the unknown drug worked by targeting the slayer make-up, as evidenced by the fact that both he and the human girl remained immune to it.
What it did to the muscles of Buffy's uterus and his unborn child was unknown, however, and that bloody well brassed Spike off. That these wankers had willingly endangered the life of his baby enraged him, and knowing he needed to calm the fuck down, he tried to distract himself.
Spike found himself staring up at the ceiling as he listened to the slow steady respirations indicative of Buffy's heavy slumber; the reassuring pounding of his girls' heart beats muted and comforting in the background.
Just hearing those cheering sounds helped, and Spike could feel the sharp edges of his fury melting away.
The soldier girl had settled across the cell, as far away from him as she could possibly manage in the small confines.
Spike had to admit to feeling a wee bit sorry for the bint - something that would have been laughable just a few short months ago. He dismissed the telltale hissing coming from the ceiling and shifted his gaze to study the girl where she sat cross-legged on the floor, steadfastly refusing to make eye contact.
Just a few months ago, Spike would have taken what the wankers had so clearly left for his eating pleasure without a second thought. Even knowing that the attack would probably lead to pain - and lots of it, if not his outright dusting.
But now? He couldn't fool himself into thinking that he just wasn't hungry, sated by slayers blood. Thing was, that wouldn't have mattered before.
Christ, he was getting soft.
"You want one of these extra pillows?" Spike found himself asking, mentally berating himself for the offer. He was still the Big Bad, for fuck's sake...
Christine flinched at the sound of his voice, and Spike growled at her reaction. "Look, you stupid bint. Not sure exactly what your problem is, but I could do without the bloody cringin' every time I say anythin' to ya."
"Why?" The question was quietly posed, Christine's curiosity getting the better of her.
"Why wot?" He knew what the girl was asking, but chose to play dumb, hoping the question would just go away.
Christine lifted her chin defiantly, sick of being at the mercy of those she had trusted without reserve. How naive she'd been when first stationed here, all enthusiasm and eagerness. Why would she doubt them? This was the United States military and she had been ecstatic and honored to serve her country.
Even if her country thought her talent was best served with a mop on a tiny obscure base that nobody even knew about, rather than the preferred combat billet she'd requested.
It had taken a bit of time for her security clearance to clear her for the restricted 'top levels' access, but once elevated, what she'd found behind those secretive doors was enough to make her whole-heartedly wish that she had never joined the military. Quickly becoming disheartened and disillusioned in her outlook on her future career.
She'd found herself cleaning up after things that weren't supposed to exist - except in the science fiction and horror genre. She hadn't been offered any explanations or consideration, aside from the veiled threats about breeching security and what would happen if she spoke of the horrors she had witnessed. Three levels of 'holding cells' where unspeakable things were done, all in the name of 'science' and 'national security'.
Experimentations that had made her stomach clench and her soul ache.
The top level where she was currently imprisoned was by far the group that suffered the worst. This is where the cloning and cross-species breeding occurred. Christine soon figured out that the scientists were forever searching for that 'secret weapon' that would give them the edge in battle - and didn't care how much pain and suffering they caused their subjects in order to find it.
Christine had been able to assuage her conscious by telling herself that these creatures were only demons, and that they had different coping mechanisms than humans. They didn't feel things like human could.
But then Buffy had been brought in and locked up. No matter what other 'powers' she possessed, she was still clearly human... and a teenager. It was witnessing her inhumane treatment that caused Christine's faith in the military to crash; her patriotism severely disillusioned.
And now here she was.
Bait for a science experiment - for no other reason other than it allowed the secretive scientists to sit on their asses behind the window and study this particular vampire. Why? Because he behaved like nothing they had ever witnessed.
He behaved like a human rather than the monsters that they were accustomed to. They wanted to see what made him tick, how far they could make him go before he eventually gave into his need for blood.
Oh, she might get saved in time; Christine didn't think they were THAT sadistic.
But then again, she might not.
"Don't suppose you plan on answerin' me sometime today?" Spike snapped, finding himself irritated by her lack of response rather than relieved.
Christine sent him a glare before she could stop herself, thankful when it prompted a smirk rather than an attack. " Ok, fine. Why aren't you attacking me?"
Spike shrugged nonchalantly. "Not really 'ungry as of yet."
"And later?"
But the vampire didn't answer her, merely shot her sinister grin, and Christine shook her head in angry disgust. Stupid military. Of course, they kept her locked up in here under the guise of needing her to play nurse to the pregnant girl. Except the vampire wouldn't even let her near Buffy... and that was pretty much fine with her.
The pillows and key had been slipped into the room by an invisible compartment that had opened up in the wall, where they dropped noisily to the sterile floor without pretense. Christine had tried several times to gain her freedom since her initial request had been denied, all to no avail.
'Buffy get pillows, I get the threat of death,' Christine grumbled internally, immediately berating herself for the unfairness of that statement.
Out of the corner of her eye, she watched as the vampire studied her, taking note of the bruising across the demon's pale torso. Christine idly wondered if she would be able to take him when he actually got around to attacking her, knowing that her superiors had drugged him to render him weak.
"So, where are you from?"
The feminine voice startled her for a moment. Christine hadn't realized that Buffy was awake, having watched her fall into a deep sleep soon after they sprayed the room. Christine looked over the vampire's shoulder and found curious hazel eyes watching her, waiting for a response to her question.
"Um...Arizona originally," Christine finally replied. After a pause, she added, "You?"
A shadowed look crossed Buffy's petite features. "California." An uncomfortable silence ensued.
Spike was hard-pressed to maintain his invalid routine, craving the small bit of physical release that pacing the small confines would offer him. That, coupled with the intense craving for nicotine he was being denied, was taking every bit of his self control to keep still.
He watched the girl stare down at the floor again and Spike felt the sudden urge to go shake her up a bit. Anythin' to divert his attention from this hell of indecision. A war was being waged with his common sense; his impulsive side wanting to go break down the soddin' door while his rational side told him that to do so, would be inviting sure failure.
Something he refused to consider as an option.
So, for once, he listened to the latter.
He glanced over at Buffy to see how she was holding up and caught her staring quizzically at the girl. Before he could open his mouth to ask how she was faring, Buffy broke the lingering silence to pose a question to Christine.
"Did anyone ever tell you that you look like that chick from the Go-Go's?"
What the bloody hell was she talking about? Spike had heard of the brain doing loopy things during pregnancy, and didn't even want to think about what the drugs were doing to her mind.
But obviously, soldier girl knew what was being referred to because the corner of her lips suddenly quirked up and she nodded.
"Yeah."
"What chick?" Spike asked, still not knowing what the conversation was about.
"That chick! You know... the one who was in Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure? The Joan of Arc chick?" Buffy told him. "Jane something or other."
"Wiedlin," Christine supplied knowingly. This was familiar.
"Yeah! That one."
Suddenly, the atmosphere in the room seemed to warm up twenty degrees and it had nothing to do with military involvement. There was a hesitant friendliness in the large, expressive brown eyes that regarded the captives on the bed, and Spike found himself hoping that she wouldn't become a casualty of this fucked up war because he had no plans to do the expected deed. He recognized something within her that he found familiar, having lived with it himself for a hundred plus years, up until he met up with Buffy.
Loneliness.
tbc
A/N Thank you so much for all the fabulous reviews!
THE FOLLOWING IS UNRELATED TO THE FIC: (so feel free to NOT read, LOL!)
Is anyone looking for Moonlight Rising ticket s? I have 2 tickets to the Moonlight Rising convention in PA (second row seats) that I am selling. The con is August 23rd, I believe. Email me if you're interested/questions buffrn12@aol.com
[Reviews - 638]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Chapter or Story |
Chapter or Story | 
Chapter or Story
Has been viewed 3896 times
- Text Size +
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Chapter or Story |
Chapter or Story | Chapter or Story - Text Size +
Author's Chapter Notes:
A/N I'm vagueing up the military subplot on purpose. It's not the Initiative (so don't be looking for Maggie or Riley behind the masks) because I'm keeping everything as 'canon' as possible through season 2's Halloween. And since the Initiative wasn't around then, think of this as some bizarre X-Files cover-up thing crossed with an alternative Initiative. I'm also writing the Council quasi-canon through early season 2, so Buffy hasn't had her bad experiences with them yet. It's not quite the "you can't trust the Council' as it was in later seasons. Please let me know what you think of the direction it's going!